


The Mad King

by TheQueenofHobbits223



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: And a bit on the mad side, Bonding between two dragons, F/M, Jon is a Bastard, Just a prompt, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenofHobbits223/pseuds/TheQueenofHobbits223
Relationships: Jon Snow & Aerys II Targaryen
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	The Mad King

**The Mad Dragon**

It was like a clockwork.

Come morn his son’s prison guards brought him his fast and every morn Aerys’ complained about it.

It was no use. They were all traitors now. Everyone had deserted him. Their King.

And for what? For his treacherous son and the Dornish whore.

Aerys could always smell it when they were close, though they never came to see him in person, hiding away in the shadows from the dragon’s wrath.

His son was even more of a coward. He showed himself rarely at Dragonstone and when he did, he only came in company of his guard.

They had betrayed him too. The Kingsguard was sworn to serve their King, but instead they chosen his son.

He hated them all with every fibre of his being.

Yet, there was someone who shared his disgust for the smelly Dornish and his treacherous son.

It was the bastard from the Stark wench that had perished from poison a handful of years ago.

 _Dornish poison_ , Aerys thought with amusement and observed the bastard boy hiding beyond the crimson cloth.

He looked a bit like Duncan, but his colouring came from the cursed Starks. Aerys recalled their features well. He had killed both his grandfather and brother.

The memory was pleasant, like a kindling flame. Sometimes, it also made him long for one of the servant wenches that were caring for him, but he usually relieved himself in a different manner.

He was a dragon and dragons did not breed with servants.

That is why he had made his son wed the Dornish whore.

He regretted that now.

_I should have bought him a Lysean whore and be done with it._

He was still laughing about his own jest when he heard footsteps drawing closer.

When he lifted his head he noticed that the bastard had left his hiding place and was standing right in front of him.

He had dark eyes like his treacherous son, but he shared something with Aerys. His hatred for the Dornish. He saw it whenever the Dornish whore’s boy was here and received cuddling from his treacherous sister-wife.

The boy wanted what he would never have. A crown.

“What are you staring at, bastard?” he asked the boy. “Have you never seen a king take his fast?”

“You are no king,” the bastard replied sullenly. “You have no crown. Father took it from you. That is what everyone says.”

“And you are a dirty little bastard,” Aerys taunted the boy. “And if your father had any sense he would have drowned you at birth.”

“They say the same about you,” the bastard replied boldly. “ That father should have you poisoned, but he won’t because he does not want to be a kingslayer.”

“My son is a weakling,” Aerys agreed with the bastard. “He doesn’t see how everyone is plotting against him. And the Dornish whore’s runt is even worse. To think…Viserys, my _true_ son, is now wed to a Dornish harlot…I see it now…our house will end with my _treacherous_ son and I shall laugh when it all happens, the _madman_ that I am!”

“They say you killed my grandfather and uncle,” the bastard said. “They say that is why you are mad.”

Aerys laughed and waved his hand at the boy, indicating for him to come closer. Surprisingly, the bastard didn’t hesitate.

“Your uncle disrespected my house and I killed him for it. Your grandfather plotted against my house and I killed him for it. And I would have done the same with your father for fucking your whore of a mother, but I lost my crown to treachery. So, bastard, if you do not want to end up like me, you should learn from my failures. Kill those who want to do you harm before they can kill you. That is how a true dragon would act, but sadly you are none. You smell as much Stark as your brother smells Dornish.”

“Do not compare me to _him_ ,” the boy replied hatefully. “He is no brother of _mine_. And one day I shall feed him to _my_ dragon. And I will make his kin watch how they had watched when my lady mother perished from the poison.”

The boy had smiled as he had said this. The sight warmed Aerys’ heart.

It seemed there was after all some dragon blood left in this world, even if it was soiled by the Stark whore’s coloring.

The thought was so ridiculous it made Aerys erupt in laughter.

They boy’s smile faded.

“Why are you laughing at me, mad king?” the boy asked.

Aerys laughed once more.

“Because you do not even have a _bloody_ dragon, bastard.”

“I have an egg,” the boy said then. “Father gave it to me. Aegon and Rhaenys have one as well, but unlike theirs, mine is alive. I have dreamed of my dragon. White wings and crimson eyes. I dreamed how I would fly him. It is no lie, grandfather.”

The bastard had spoken in such a serious tone that Aerys had ceased laughing altogether.

He leaned forward in his chair and eyed the bastard once more.

“Well, then I expect you to invite me to his grand feast of yours. I have always liked the smell of human flesh. It gives me such a wholesome feeling.”

The bastard smiled and bowed his head like one does before a king. “I shall gladly invite you, your grace.”

…


End file.
